145: Chapter 145 The End of an Era

The orders from Yanan arrived faster and more resolutely than the biting winter winds.

A special escort team, composed of Long March veterans and battle-hardened elites, traveled day and night from the rear to reach the River Defense Garrison.

They had only one mission.

To escort these "sparks of civilization," representing the future of the Dragon Kingdom, safely to Yanan at all costs.

The moment of departure had finally arrived.

A solemn and grave atmosphere permeated the garrison.

The soldiers packed all their best saved dry rations and fried noodles into the scholars' bags.

The Military Doctors distributed the last batch of precious medicine to the team.

Chen Xi did not join the farewell.

He found the commander of the escort team, a middle-aged cadre with a determined face and steady eyes.

The two did not exchange many pleasantries.

From his System space, Chen Xi took out several heavy iron boxes stained with blood and fire.

Inside was the silent accusation of the three hundred thousand souls of Nanjing.

It was the sharpest evidence, enough to nail those demons to the pillar of historical shame.

"Inside is all the evidence of the Japanese Army's atrocities in Nanjing."

Chen Xi's voice was calm.

"Film, documents, and the diaries of Mr. Rabe and Vautrin."

He handed the iron boxes to the other man.

The movement was slow and heavy.

It was as if he weren't handing over a few boxes of documents, but the weight of an era.

The middle-aged cadre's expression instantly became incredibly solemn.

He didn't need to open them.

He only needed to feel the cold, almost bloody touch of the iron boxes to know what the contents meant.

He solemnly gave Chen Xi a standard military salute.

"Please rest assured, Comrade Chen Xi!"

"I guarantee with my party spirit and my life that as long as I live, nothing will happen to these things!"

Chen Xi nodded.

He believed him.

He believed in this team.

At the pier.

The scholars, about to embark on their journey north, were waiting.

They did not rush Chen Xi.

They only looked at him with incredibly complex and grateful eyes.

When Chen Xi walked over.

The white-haired historian who had identified the value of the evidence in Jinling walked out tremblingly from the crowd.

He stood before Chen Xi on behalf of everyone.

He did not speak.

He simply led all his companions behind him in a deep bow to Chen Xi.

"Mr. Chen."

The old man looked up, his clouded eyes filled with tears.

"Years will pass after this departure, and I know not if we shall meet again."

"But all of us here swear an oath."

"You, sir, have preserved the cultural lineage of our nation single-handedly. We will not fail your high expectations and will use what we have learned for the rest of our lives to build a brand new China!"

"A brand new China, enough to comfort the three hundred thousand souls in Nanjing!"

His voice trembled violently in the cold wind due to emotion.

But every word was powerful and resonant.

Chen Xi looked at them.

He looked at these frail, physically weak people who represented the wisdom and integrity of this nation's backbone.

In his heart, the corner that had become hard and cold due to the slaughter in Nanjing seemed to melt slightly.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something.

In the end, he only nodded.

"Take care on your journey."

The fleet set sail.

Under the escort of the New Fourth Army's elite troops, these "arks" carrying the future slowly sailed toward the middle of the river, then turned and broke through the waves toward the distant, safe north.

Chen Xi stood at the ferry, watching quietly.

He watched as the boats grew smaller and smaller in his vision.

Eventually, they became several insignificant black dots on the river.

Until they disappeared completely.

[They are finally safe...]

[Tears, this journey hasn't been easy.]

[Master Xi, you should take a break too.]

[Yeah, the nightmare of Jinling is finally over.]

The bullet chat in the Livestream room was also filled with sighs of relief.

Chen Xi let out a long breath of white mist.

He felt the heavy weight that had been pressing down on him, making it almost impossible to breathe, finally lift at this moment.

From the moment he stepped into Nanjing.

He had been like a solitary ghost, wandering through the dark, bloody city.

In his eyes, there was only killing and protecting.

In his heart, there was only revenge and responsibility.

Now.

Everything is over.

The blood and fire of Nanjing had turned the last page.

The solitary ghost wandering in the ruins had fulfilled his mission.

Chen Xi did not stay at the ferry for long.

After the shadow of the last boat disappeared beyond the horizon.

He turned around.

Without the slightest reluctance.

His gaze crossed the reed marshes in front of him, crossed the Yangtze River beneath his feet, and looked toward the more distant, more majestic mountains of the north.

The towering Taihang.

His gaze was no longer the cold and dead one from Nanjing.

A brand new light slowly lit up in the depths of his eyes.

It was the light of a pioneer, a builder, filled with hope and strength.

The Taihang Mountains.

The base of the Eighth Route Army.

There lay the most resilient backbone of this nation.

There lay the most vigorous vitality of this land.

That was the starting point of his next journey.

A long-awaited, heartfelt smile tugged at the corners of Chen Xi's mouth.

(Taihang, here I come.)